Spiderdad

11

Peter paced around as he took a sip of beer. It tasted pretty good, which at the moment was one of the few things his brain could process. He hiccuped, laughed then leaned over the edge of the roof. He was on a roof, right? He couldn't quite tell, but it kind of looked like he was. When he looked over the edge, the streets twitched like tense muscles, one moment the cars were inches away from his face, the next they were miles away.

"Holee fucks," Peter grinned groggily, "I'm on a roofff."

In his drunk state he couldn't recognized the danger of being on a roof. If he tried getting down, he would hurt could seriously injure himself. Unable to tell where the edge of the building was, he chose not to attempt leaving his spot. Laughing at himself, Peter lay down shakily and closed his eyes for a moment, mumbling nonsense to himself. He said something about MJ, rambled about Spiderman, cursed at Peter Parker, then closed his lecture to no one with a bold statement.

"Fucks you Earthie!"

Then he started laughing until his stomach did a few warning backflips and he hiccuped. With a sigh, he started mumbling to his invisible audience again. After a few minutes of muttering and steady drinking, the sound of loud sirens filled the teen's ears. He choked on the beer he was drinking and his confused spider sense tingled in alarm. Sitting up quickly, he looked around, making out the shapes of two police cars chasing after a large SUV truck.

"Ho shit," Peter laughed to himself then slid his mask all the way over his face.

Being Spiderman ment stopping crime, just normally not when he was drunk. He muttered something about him dying the sloppily swung down from the building, doing his best to follow the SUV, getting on and off track several times. With a grunt he landed in front of it and locked every bone in his body, preparing for impact. As planned, the SUV rammed into him, forced to stop at his strength. Pain jolted through Peter's body and he gasped slightly. His spider sense made his ears ring loudly as three men with guns hopped out of their SUV.

"Bishez," Peter mumbled as he webbed one of them up and kicked another down.

The other shot at him but Peter ducked under the bullets as best he could then shot a web at the barrel of his gun. He dropped the gun and punched Peter in the side, numb with alcohol, Peter hardly noticed as he grabbed the man's head and threw him onto the ground. The police quickly arrived at the scene, ordering the criminals to back down and put their hands up, the usual procedures.

"Thanks you sirs," Peter slurred, swaying slightly as he tried to stay on his feet.

"That was a pretty hard hit," One policewoman commented, "Are you alright?"

"Had worses," Peter replied.

"Are you... drunk?" A policeman anxiously asked.

"Nah. Just messesed up from the fuck- I mean truck," Peter answered as he swung away, almost running into several buildings, "Not halfle bad for fighting drunk," then he laughed slightly at himself, he was kind of an idiot, in his opinion that is.

He headed for one of the tallest office buildings, which as far as his drunk and confused eyes could tell was not that tall. He passed several swaying buildings that he did his best to avoid until he finally reached the office building he had picked out. With a grunt, he crash landed on the roof and knocked himself unconscious.